Wednesday, April 24, 2013

fall fresh on me // avocado

{via pinterest}
i've always been captivated by the inside. by the stuff that no one sees, the painting underneath the varnish that was forgotten for a hundred years until one brave chisel flaked away the dark to show the light.

and it's springtime, or almost, and i'm watching as life is fighting winter every minute and every second to find its way out of the ground and into the blue sky world out here.

i saw a little girl find a feather the other day, and she smiled and held it up, and the silken strands were still so strong despise the wind and rain and squashy mud all around. and my soul picked up the feather too and tucked it in my hair, the little girl in my heart throwing back long dark waves of hair and laughing to the sky

Spirit of the living God,
;; fall fresh on me

and i'm starting to find God in the little things again, the things i forgot. and i know i've written here a thousand times about the beautiful ones, the almost hidden ones in the Bible, the ones He noticed that were invisible to everyone else.

it's the slicing of the avocado, that thick black shell melting away under silver to reveal the green of nourishment and the thick pit that holds life at even its tiny tight-locked core. and it's marvelous how much life can be wrapped up in something so wrinkled and unappealing to the eye.

sometimes i feel the pain of that knife slicing so smooth through the vileness that has built up around the life potential He placed in my heart of hearts. and it hurts so that i falter and weep and beg
{via pinterest}

Spirit of the living God
:: fall fresh on me

and then the green is seen, and the life tucked away deep within comes to the surface and blooms rich like springtime with glory and life shining from every pore. oh, how i ache to be radiant, to cover my face with a veil for the Light bursting from me to every corner.

now i feel infant fingers pull at long waves of my raven-wing hair, and i bring down my own fingers on the soft ginger gosling down that clings to the head of my beautiful little one. i think of future days when i will brush her hair and tell her about feathers and grace and the Light of the Son.

but for now, she falls asleep on my shoulder and lets loose the sweetest of baby sighs, and i feel something stir deep inside my soul. it's that little girl, tucking the feather behind her ear. she sits beneath a tree with the soles of her feet pressed together and elbows on knees.

and she whispers soft like the newcoming springtime breezes

Spirit of the living God,
:: fall fresh on me


8 comments:

  1. So beautiful and did you hear the Holy Whispered Name of God when Baby Girl sighed? (Breathed) That's so awesome. Love it! You capture so much in your writing, Rachel. You see and share such precious things.

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  2. lovely as always. keep finding the mystery and majesty in the minute things of life:)

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  3. Your words bless me. I think you're writing here, ultimately, of patience. The patience to wait and see what's hidden, what's waiting to bloom and grow. And maybe it's just me, but--as much wonder as I read between your lines--I also read your suffering, or mine, or ours. Because waiting hurts so much, especially waiting for oneself to re-emerge. God bless, Pretty Mama. All the beauty within the avocado is yours. And more.

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  4. You can write, friend! Beautifully!

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  5. i love avocados, and how you wove them into this. :)

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  6. A fresh falling...yes, that's what I want to. Beautiful.

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I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon